


collection of my hd_365 entries

by snottygrrl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: hd_365, Drabble Sequence, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-30
Updated: 2006-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 01:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snottygrrl/pseuds/snottygrrl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>harry and draco are partners in and out of the sheets/auror office. the following stories are excerpts from a few days in an ongoing multi-authored fic for a year of their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the colour of kisses

**Author's Note:**

> **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** the community hd_365 had daily posts for a year. a handful of authors were invited to post every other week on a certain day for their time with the comm. each week had a different prompts. all the days built off each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt:** colour  
>  **warnings:** none really. er, except maybe that there isn't much pr0n  
>  **author's notes:** um, this didn't come out as i intended. for one thing it was supposed to be mostly colour and smut, and then the boys got all plotty, and then they wouldn't go back to the smut, they just wanted to fade to black. please don't hate me. also thought it was going to be longer. unbeta'd because it's 2.40am, and who am i gonna get to beta now? promise to do better next time.

Alabaster skin is all he's aware of when he awakes. Flesh pressed against flesh.

Harry wonders just how long it will take him to kiss every millimeter of it and sets to finding out. He starts at the long creamy neck, but quickly gets distracted by the way a flush rises with each gentle caress, changing the colour to a pale pink, which Harry finds no less enticing. It does, however, induce him to try for a darker hue. Nipping and worrying the juncture where shoulder meets neck results in a pleasing red tone, as well as an appreciative moan from the body beneath him.

He has just begun to explore one of the dusky nipples, delighting in the way his lover starts to writhe and whimper, when he's unceremoniously dumped onto the plain white sheets as Draco suddenly sits up, cursing a blue streak.

As much as he'd like to continue on with his plan and ignore Draco's protests about needing to get to work, he has to admit it won't be good if they are late to the office. Not this week. Not the week he's just been cleared and reinstated.

And besides that, since the incident with Merryweather was rather sudden, a replacement hasn't been named and half the Ministry has an eye on their department. Rumours are rampant as to who will be chosen. Unsurprisingly, Kingsley and Remus are the favourites, though there is a rather vocal faction that is sure it will be Harry.

The very idea is rather laughable in Harry's opinion. He's never been a strategist, not even during the war. He'd left that to other Order members. Harry assumes the group that is betting on him is mostly made up of folk who still have an axe to grind with Merryweather, and know that it would be the ultimate insult if Harry took his place.

Privately Harry believes that Draco would do a wonderful job. He's excellent with planning and execution—a close examination of the previous weeks is more than proof of that—and he knows heaps about how dark wizards think from a lifetime of dealing with them. On top of all that, though he'd vehemently deny it, Harry knows his lover still has a strong need to prove the value of the Malfoy name to the Wizarding world.

Whoever's finally named, Harry's pretty sure life will be a lot better at work from now on. Still, neither he nor Draco can really afford another black mark on their records.

Harry reluctantly turns his attention from Draco and hurries to prepare for the day.

~*~*~

  
At one point during the afternoon Harry is sure the day is never going to end. But eventually it does. One look at his tired lover and Draco wraps his arms around him, and Apparates them both to their secluded tree house in the Forbidden Forest.

And now as the sun is setting in the autumn sky, filling the room with coral hues that sharply contrast with the lush greens of the surrounding trees, Harry has once again set about on his quest to map Draco's skin with his kisses.

  
~fin


	2. the colour of kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> draco and harry go to the weasley twin's lab

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt 21:** water  
>  **warnings:** none really. er, except maybe it ends rather suddenly, but i couldn't get the boys to do anything else. oh and talk of bondage  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. and Disney. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** this is an odd little adventure, the bunny being one of persistence, despite its strangeness. the story kept morphing as the amazing women before me posted such great pieces. hope this little one doesn't disappoint. it obliquely refers to [plum crazier](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_365/82884.html) and [plum crazy](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_365/72261.html).

"You ready, Draco?" His boyfriend looked up from the paperwork and scowled. "Come on, I told the twins we'd be at the shop by six. It's Friday and after this week we surely deserve a break. You can finish those on Monday." He waited as Draco continued on with the reports as if Harry hadn't spoken. Suspecting Draco was still in a snit about the lube incident from last week, another tactic was called for. "Don't be that way. George said he was sorry and swore there weren't any more doctored tubes in the flat."

Draco gave an undignified snort of disbelief. Encouraged by at least some response, Harry moved on to a tried and true method of persuasion. "I'll make it worth your while after."

"I already know I'm getting it before midnight, Potter," Draco said without looking up. "What are going to add to make it _worth my while_?"

Harry debated asking for suggestions, but he was more worried about what his lover really needed. It'd been a long and emotional week, full of reminders of the harshness that can pervade life. While Draco was acting normal enough, Harry could feel his underlying tension and general unease. He decided to offer something he hoped would lessen that tension and perhaps give Draco back a sense of control. "I'll let you tie me up."

Something primal flashed in Draco's eyes. "Wrists _and_ ankles?"

Hiding his smile, Harry nodded.

"Let's get a move on, Potter. We're going to be late."

~*~*~

  
"I don't know where they could be," Harry said, rejoining Draco in the Weasley twins' workshop-cum-laboratory behind the shop. "I've glanced around their flat. Looks for all the world like they're still in the building."

Draco nodded. "I think they are. I may have found something." He led Harry over to a small flight of stairs in the corner of the workshop. "What's up there?"

Harry gave him a quizzical look. "They use it as a storeroom as far as I know. Why?"

"Take a gander at the wards."

Running a standard diagnostic spell, Harry responded with surprise. "I know they're careful with their goods -"

"But that's complete overkill for storage." Draco finished for him.

"You suppose they're in there, then?" Draco shrugged. "Should we try and break through the wards?"

"You're such a Gryffindor, Potter. We could try knocking first, given there is no sign of foul play." Draco's tone was amused. "Knowing these two as I do, I'm not one to advocate blindly barging in on whatever experiment they're doing that required such precautions."

Grinning sheepishly, Harry mounted the stairs to bang on the door, shouting for good measure. "Fred? George?"

As he turned to Draco to ask for his next suggestion, a muffled tapping sound came from inside. Its rhythmic pattern was the code the Order had used to mean _help_. Harry barely had time to move aside before Draco was next to him working on breaking the wards.

They had been labouring feverishly for a few intense moments when the door gave a resounding crack, causing Harry to leap sideways moments before it gave way and a wall of water flooded through. Gaping, Harry stared as an entire roomful poured out, washing down the stairs and taking Draco with it.

For a second, Harry was reminded of the movie _Fantasia_ —he'd seen bits of it one summer at the Dursleys—and for a surreal moment he pictured Draco as the sorcerer's apprentice being swept away by the mops and buckets, though the angry sputtering blond on the floor had little in common with a mouse in a star-spangled Wizard's cap. Shaking the image from his mind, Harry returned his attention to the door.

As the deluge slowed to a trickle, a sloshing from just inside the room heralded the arrival of the Weasley twins.

~*~*~

  
They never did make it out to drinks even though Draco and both of the twins were fine—if not a little damp. Despite Fred and George's bravado, the whole experience had left them all rather shaken.

The Weasleys had been working on a potion lengthening the effects of gillyweed to allow extended time for diving without the danger of suddenly being unable to breathe underwater. In their eagerness to test their latest version, they had decided to ward and flood the storeroom rather than wait for an opportune moment to use a more conventional body of water. They'd even had enough sense to make sure they had a properly protected phial of the antidote so they'd be able to regain their capability of speech to perform the spells to drain the room and release the protections. Only they'd left the phial on the table in the workshop, each thinking the other had brought it. As skilled as they were at voiceless magic, the spells they needed were too complex, and they were left to wait for rescue, hoping Harry and Draco would be clever enough to find them.

In the end, the four had cleaned up the mess, banishing the water and fixing most of the damage. Harry and Draco turned down George's half-hearted invitation to come up to the flat for a beer, and promised to return another time for drinks. Taking their leave, they Apparated back home.

~*~*~

  
Harry was awash in sensation. He had no idea how long Draco had been sweetly torturing him with soft kisses and caresses. No sense of anything beyond this bed and its occupants.

Draco had begun the moment they returned, pulling Harry into a passionate kiss and backing him towards the bed. He had carefully undressed both of them, never leaving Harry's mouth for long. Within moments Harry had been dizzy with his lover's intense seduction.

Even the process of tying Harry down had been a teasing game, with Draco restraining each limb separately at varying intervals, until Harry was splayed across the bed, open and wanting.

Draco had spent an interminable length of time mapping Harry's body with his fingers and tongue while Harry lay bound. And now Harry was sure he could die just from the exquisite feeling of his lover's skin against his.

"Harry, look at me." The command was gentle.

Harry obeyed immediately and would have come at the sight of his lover poised to mount him if Draco hadn't had a tight grip around the base of his cock to prevent Harry's over-stimulated body from reacting.

Draco held Harry's gaze as he slowly sank down, sheathing him in one long movement and stilled. "Come for me, Harry," Draco whispered as he clamped his muscles.

Harry's world exploded.

  
~fin


	3. discontent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry and draco are fighting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt 22:** the letter "d"  
>  **warnings:** rimming, adult language, angstiness and schmoop.  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. and Disney. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  this author is not responsible for underage readers. please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** the d bit for me originally was _doggy-style_ , though it morphed into something quite different.

Draco is still furious with Harry, but that isn't the point.

"Come on, Potter." His words are sharp. "Time to fuck."

Harry looks up, eyes wide with surprise. "I thought we weren't even talking." Hurt laces Harry's voice and when Draco glances his way, he's the picture of misery, which just further irritates the blond. "You can barely even stand to look at me," accuses Harry.

"Fortunately one doesn't need to talk nor look in order to fuck. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you ruin our perfect run on the resolution." His glare silences Harry's half-hearted protests. "Now get your arse into the bedroom," Draco adds as he turns, striding down the hallway.

By the time Harry approaches their bed a few minutes later with hesitant steps, Draco is already naked and on all fours in the middle of it. "While we're still young, Potter," Draco snaps.

"Draco, I don't think I can just—"

"You can and you will," responds Draco in a tone that brooks no argument.

"But can't we talk about Oliv—"

"No! No discussion. Fucking. Your dick, my arse." Draco knows words won't help at this stage. There's been too many words spat back and forth tonight already. Words filled with jealousy and fear and hurt. This entire week has left him raw and emotional and Draco is tired of words. "Get on with it."

"Fine." Harry's answer is clipped. His voice resigned.

Draco doesn't react when he hears Harry undressing, nor when the bed dips as Harry shuffles behind him. Willing his body to relax, Draco waits for the quick, less-than-satisfying fuck he's sure is about to take place. Nothing happens for long moments and Draco resists the urge to look back and ask whether Potter is waiting for an engraved invitation. If Draco's bare arse in the air isn't inducement enough.

Expecting a rough grip on his hip, too little preparation and mechanical thrusting, Draco is startled by Harry's fingers lightly grazing across his lower back. Draco can't stop the slight shiver at the surprisingly gentle touch as Harry continues to trace Draco's body, his hands ghosting over the skin.

There's a reverence in the touch that Draco tries to ignore. He doesn't want to think about love and belonging and how much he stands to lose if things change. If Harry's self-righteous anger about pricks like Brownleigh-Bennett gets him hurt or killed. Or Harry's Gryffindor nobility and Wood's pleasant smile convince him to leave Draco to the perfect pure-blood life complete with heir. Or if Harry eventually gets tired of taking care of him, coping with his moods and finally realises that he deserves better than damaged goods like Draco. However, when Draco tries pushing into the caresses, attempting to turn them into something harsher, Harry quietly pulls back to maintain the softness, unwilling to be hurried in his explorations.

Just as Draco manages to block off the flow of emotions Harry's careful touches are drawing from his heart, he feels the first kiss at the base of his spine. But it's not really a kiss. Harry's mouthing words into his skin. And even as he's telling himself he doesn't want to know what Harry's saying, Draco's already deciphering the movement of the lips as they press _I'm sorry_ and _I love you_ and _I'm yours_ repeatedly against his flesh. Tattooing the declarations across his back, into his neck, over his arse and down his thighs.

Feelings tumble through Draco, threatening to overwhelm him, as Harry's hands and mouth continue their quiet penance. Try as he might, Draco can't remain immune to the gentle assault. It chips away at the protective shell of jealousy and anger revealing the deep pool of insecurity and fear that lies buried beneath. Drowning, unable to pretend any longer, Draco's arms shake and buckle. He buries his face in the pillow, stifling a sob.

Harry stills momentarily, one hand against his back, the other on his hip and whispers, "Yours, Draco, only yours." Returning to his ministrations, Harry runs his tongue across Draco's arse cheeks before spreading them wide.

Draco's spent large portions of his life devising methods to keep from feeling this vulnerable. He's never let anyone else possess this much power over him and for a moment he curses himself for allowing Potter to have this kind of influence. But then Harry licks from Draco's bollocks up his cleft and presses a needy kiss to his hole and Draco remembers how it happened.

All coherent thought and feeling beyond desire melt away with Harry's eager and attentive tongue. Soon Draco is gasping and sobbing into the pillow, begging his lover for more. He doesn't resist when Harry flips him onto his back and spreads his legs. Wants nothing more than the slight burn and stretch as Harry enters him.

Each careful thrust is so filled with love, that when Harry kisses Draco the mingled flavour of the two of them on his tongue is almost too much. Yet the coupling continues slow and sweet, emotion building on emotion until all doubt is washed away in the pinnacle of release.

Draco doesn't realise his face is wet with tears until Harry begins kissing them away, murmuring, "Love you Draco, so much."

  
~fin


	4. six degrees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> other people observe the rift between harry and draco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt 23:** tenderness  
>  **warnings:** er, none really, except that this may not really work v. well with the other days.  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.   
>  the author is not responsible for underage readers. please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** this is an odd little piece and hopefully it will work for you all. it's less about the prompt (tenderness) and more about the other author's work. of the six drabbles in this set, ii. is based on [](http://cutecoati.livejournal.com/profile)[**cutecoati**](http://cutecoati.livejournal.com/)'s [queen of spades](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_365/91672.html#cutid1), v. on [](http://rurounihime.livejournal.com/profile)[**rurounihime**](http://rurounihime.livejournal.com/)'s [epiphany](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_365/91245.html#cutid1) and last but not least, vi. is from [](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/profile)[**lusiology**](http://lusiology.livejournal.com/)'s [defeated](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_365/89097.html#cutid1) and [in deep water](http://community.livejournal.com/hd_365/85471.html#cutid1).

i.  
Tonks is the first one to walk in on their quiet row in the tearoom.

She stands stalled in the doorway, not wanting to intrude, but in desperate need of the coffee she came for.

She thinks maybe she should make her presence known before anyone else finds them and this gets added to the speculations about the pair, who have seemed to be out sorts for most of the week.

The decision's made for her when she hears an "Oh!" from the hallway that draws her cousin's attention. His eyes narrow at the audience.

"We'll finish this later, Potter."

  
ii.  
Narcissa rarely second guesses herself.

She doesn't need to.

But in the cold light of day, sipping her morning tea that that insufferable house-elf has over brewed, and contemplating what _exactly_ she should say to Pansy when she and her mother arrive later on, Narcissa wonders if it was wise to give Potter her approval so thoroughly.

And then she remembers the way he watched her son, all his emotions so apparent on his face and knows with an absolute certainty that Pansy could never equal that kind of devotion.

More importantly, it's Potter, not Pansy, that her son loves.

iii.  
Following the Slytherin code of conduct (thus leaving even blatantly obvious emotional issues, such as the transparent rift between Draco and Potter, out of friendly lunch conversation), Blaise's discussing innocuous topics like whether the Weasley's new forever-slick lubricant will be a big seller amongst the terminally repressed.

When Draco's snort of laughter ends in a nearly Hufflepuffian sigh of despair, Blaise uncharacteristically blurts, "Christ, Draco, just because Potter's holding out on you, doesn't mean you have-"

"Actually, he rogered the stuffing out of me this morning," interjects Draco, shifting gingerly.

For once, Blaise's completely unsure of what to say next.

iv.  
Kingsley's used to the office gossiping about Potter and Malfoy _going at it_ , but the whispers are usually accompanied by blushes and embarrassed giggles.

As he passes yet another murmured conversation in the hallway, he frowns at the implications of the somber tone and quiet gasp.

He doesn't need this right now. Not with another body found just this morning with all the signs of being Donal Brown's latest victim. Not with their latest break in the case, looking suspiciously like a trap. He hopes he's wrong, but if the antidote isn't… well, Potter and Malfoy better not be distracted.

v.  
Sleep is still eluding Oliver and his clothes are starting to hang off his already lean frame. Impatient with his continuing inability to cope with what's happened, he pushes himself to behave normally, but like a fool he's added a new emotion to the fray.

The relief he experienced in finally telling Harry how he's felt has been quickly replaced by guilt at the way he chose to reveal his heart. It was selfish to imply, even vaguely, that he wanted Harry to leave Draco for him.

Not for the first time this week, he wonders just what he's done.

vi.  
As much as Bowtruckle complains about the continued sex he's been forced to listen to during these past weeks of surveillance, he's finding the long, seemingly awkward silences and terse responses far more trying.

Tonight, they've said barely a handful of words to each other, though from the sounds of it they've made and eaten dinner.

A chair scrapes across the floor, and then, "Please, Draco I can't fight anymore. Not tonight. Please." The voice breaks on the last word.

The response holds more tenderness than Bowtruckle's heard all week. "Oh, Harry."

A breathy sigh follows, signaling more to come.


	5. between the devil and the deep blue sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a day in the office

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt 24:** euphemisms  
>  **warnings:** more cliched euphemisms than you can shake a stick at. and no visible smex. sorry.  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  the author is not responsible for underage readers. please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** not a little bit strange

Draco shifts gingerly in his office chair and wonders how rabbits function. Because while it seemed like a good idea numerous times last night, and again at 2am and 4am this morning, now he's stiff and sore and can't really imagine hopping anywhere. Perhaps all that fur helps.

Staring tiredly at the report on his desk, he hopes Harry hasn't seen it yet, but knows _that_ chance is one in a million. The papers had been on Draco's desk when he'd arrived this morning and he suspects there was a matching copy on his lover's as well. Draco's managed to avoid looking at them until now.

He fingers the pages that contain the debrief from the cleanup team that took care of their flat after they'd found the strange dust last week, with something akin to dread. Draco knows without a doubt that information is power. That learning all they can about the mysterious substance - what it does and how long it was in their flat before it was discovered - is vitally important. But just this once he wishes he could play like an ostrich with his head in the sand.

And apparently the universe is smiling upon him, because before he's even had time to glance at the first sentence, Harry's there cheerfully demanding to be taken to lunch.

As he watches Draco carefully rise, Harry leers. "You look a little knackered, lover. Too many games of hide the salami last night?"

Draco gives him a half-hearted glare, his mind still occupied with the unknown contents of the report.

As if reading his thoughts, Harry's eyes track to the papers on the desk, his expression growing serious. "I don't like being on the back foot either, Draco. This whole thing has thrown a spanner in the works, but we'll get through this. I promise." Draco allows Harry to take his hand in a reassuring grasp and lead him from the room. "Besides, right now I'm much more interested in the extravagant lunch some insatiable bloke in my bed promised he'd take me to today."

This time, Draco returns Harry's mischievous smile, knowing there'll be time enough to deal with this whole can of worms later.


	6. come, come thou bleak december wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grey sky matched Harry's mood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt 25:** weather  
>  **warnings:** flangsty, short and mostly implied smex  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.   
>  the author is not responsible for underage readers. please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** rather short. humblest apologies. what can i say, i'm failing at life currently. at least it's still fri in the states. this is a 4 count drabble set. title comes from Samuel Taylor Coleridge's _Fragment 3_

1.  
The grey sky matched Harry's mood. An early-morning owl had interrupted a leisurely wakeup kiss that Harry had intended to parley into something more. And if that weren't annoying enough, Tonks' vague and cryptic note surely didn't bode for a quiet end to the wet week.

To tell the truth, Harry couldn't make heads nor tails of what she was hinting at (decoding never was his forté), but the frown on his lover's face when he'd read it over wasn't promising.

They had dressed quickly after that, the mood somber and tense.

Harry sighed, so much for the holiday spirit.

2.  
Stomping at the frozen ground as they made their way to the Ministry, Harry longed to ask for an explanation. Draco had silenced his earlier queries with a quick shake of his head and a meaningful glance around their apparently still-not-safe flat.

Harry had followed him mutely after Draco's falsely cheerful declaration that it was the perfect morning to walk to work. It was obvious Draco was taking them somewhere where they could talk, Harry would have to be patient.

All around them Christmas decorations twinkled and sparkled. He glared at them feeling like Scrooge. Harry hated being patient.

3.  
Harry watched Draco's breath as it turned into soft white clouds with each exhalation.

The day hadn't improved one iota since the owl. Not with Draco's hasty explanation of the contents of said owl, nor with the staged 'briefing' that Kingsley and Tonks' had set up to try and smoke out the mole.

Now they were waiting in a secluded corner of some Muggle park for the real briefing with the pair. Harry could tell by Draco's casual nonchalance that he was worried.

Wanting to kiss away the concerns, Harry settled for giving Draco's hand a tight squeeze and waiting.

4.  
The snow fell gently, covering the city in a layer of white. Draco'd refused to go back to the flat, taking Harry to one of the classiest hotels in London, murmuring something about an early Christmas gift.

The intensity with which Draco was now kissing him made Harry's heart pound. He gave himself freely to wandering hands and questing lips, reveling in the fact that his body could give comfort when words could not.

They were mired in something far deeper than either wanted, and who knew what tomorrow would bring, but tonight they had this, and it was everything.

  
~fin


	7. tea for three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pansy pays a visit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **prompt 26:** resolutions  
>  **warnings:** angst-ish and only implied smex  
>  **disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
>  the author is not responsible for underage readers. please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.  
>  **author's notes:** as you've been reading in other's posts, this is my last bit for the comm. this little adventure was interesting, challenging and rewarding. i can't thank the maintainers, the other writers or our devoted readers of this comm enough. it's been a ride.

Pansy straightens her skirt again, reassuring herself that she is not stalling. It's been ages since she's seen him and though there's no romantic interest, despite what her mother would like, she's unaccountably nervous. Picking invisible lint off her blouse (one of her own design), she mentally prepares herself to greet her old childhood friend. _Surely he's still Draco,_ she thinks, _how could he be anything else?_

And that's the crux of it really. No one in the world can make you feel small and insignificant the way a Malfoy can. What if, after spending all this time with Potter and his cronies, Draco's decided she no longer measures up? Or worse yet, what if agrees with Nott who finds the fashion industry unbecoming for a Slytherin or Daphne, who allows for the career, but doesn't approve of her Muggle-style line of wizarding fashion? What if he turns that cutting tongue and sharp wit against her? Pansy's not sure she can withstand such scorn.

However, she can't stay on the stoop forever. Taking a fortifying breath, Pansy knocks. There's a loud thump from within, almost as if someone was startled by the sound and whacked something aside. She thinks she hears snickering and muffled curses and then silence.

Pansy's about to knock again when the door swings open, reveling a flushed and slightly disheveled Draco, who still manages to maintain that superior air while looking perfectly refined even with several recent-looking bite marks standing out on his pale neck.

"Pansy, who'd've imagined you'd be so prompt? Happy Christmas, do come in. Harry's making up tea and biscuits."

Following Draco into the tastefully decorated flat, Pansy notices a picture near the hall table is askew and the large vase that sits on it is slightly off centre, as though it's been hastily arranged on the table.

Once in the sitting room, she perches in the chair that Draco indicates as they chat on about insignificant topics. When Potter brings the tea things in moments later, she can feel his jealous suspicion like a living thing.

This is the first time she's been near him since Hogwarts, and she understands why Draco's drawn to him. Potter radiates power, though he seems completely unconscious of it, and she can sense the increase in magic he brings merely with his presence. She shudders with the knowledge of what he can do and is glad he's one of the noble ones.

Yet, despite his capabilities, Potter carries the tea tray in his hands and after setting it down, pours like a Muggle. When he gives Pansy her cup, she has the urge to check for poisons, but daintily sips at it nonetheless.

Relaxing into their old camaraderie, she and Draco continue to prattle about nothing while Potter sullenly watches. Suddenly, unable to resist baiting the Gryffindor for old time sake, Pansy drawls, "Mother says she has it on the _best_ authority that Potter, here, is just filler. An experiment to wile away the endless hours without me."

"It's true, dearest," Draco responds in a bored tone, though he's smiling slightly as he picks up on her game. "Potter hates it when I make him wear a skirt and my old Slytherin tie, but needs must." Draco's demeanor shifts slightly, the grin disappearing. "It works out though, as Potter seems unable to truly commit to the long haul."

To Pansy's surprise the subtle edge of sarcasm in Draco's voice doesn't seem to be directed at her, but rather at Potter. The sudden change in emotion catches Pansy off guard, both the bitterness in Draco's eyes and the shocked pain of Potter's expression.

"We're bewildering your Gryffindor, darling. Why don't you direct me to ladies and I'll go powder my nose while you explain to him how Slytherins bond." Despite her well-practiced lackadaisical tone, Pansy's in need of a break herself. The tension is thick and she wants a moment to clear her head and sort through what's going on.

Staring into the mirror she contemplates what she's observed. She's noticed the unguarded longing in the looks Draco gives Potter when he thinks no one is watching. And on Potter's part, his enduring devotion to Draco is visible in his every action. _So what's the problem?_ she wonders, and with a shake of her head is forced to conclude, _they're men._

Resolved to do what she can to help her old schoolmates, Pansy straightens her shoulders and returns to the fray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> these were all written for the lj community [hd_365](http://hd-365.livejournal.com). 
> 
> for a year, a group of us managed an ongoing story (though i was only involved for the last quarter of it). we posted daily and continued the story from whatever the previous poster had done in a round robin kind of way. they were all posted during 2006—which you can find in the community's archives [here](http://hd-365.livejournal.com/2006/)
> 
> these seven posts were the ones that i did for the story (with several posts happening in between them).


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